A Struggle for Answers
by cleopatra80
Summary: Sara wants answers. Will they lead to good things or will they break them apart? GSR.
1. A Struggle for Answers

**A/N:** Thanks again to those who need to be thanked, you know who you are. I do not own these characters, nor their backstory, I just play with them and stuff them in my doll house when I'm done. This fic maybe painful to those in want of a child, who are having a hard time getting their dreams to come through. You are in my thoughts. This fic is meant to be a one shot, but if it really means that much to you I might be able to squeeze out another chapter or two...

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She marched into his office and locked the door behind her, not bothering to see if he was busy or if she was disturbing him in any way. 

He had been reading and his glasses now dangled loosely from his thumb and index finger as he stared at her -mouth open- while she was shutting every blind in his office, before wheeling around.

"It's been enough," she said, more timid than her behavior would have predicted.

He stared at her in silence.

"We need to talk, and by 'we' I mean not only me, but you too."

She walked up to his desk and sat across from him in one of the two chairs meant for visitors.

He still stared.

"I'm waiting, you know," she said, while impatiently tapping her foot against his desk -which was driving him insane already- and cocking her head slightly.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Oh Lord, he can speak!" she said mockingly.

"Why are you here?"

"Ah! Good question," she sat upright in her chair, folding her hands on the desk in front of her, unaware of the fact that she was now copying his stance. "I am here because I need and deserve answers."

"Answers?"

"Don't patronize me like that, Grissom. It's been almost six years since I moved here. There has always been an interest, at least on _my_ part, and you know it. And yet, after all this time you are still sending me mixed signals. What is it? Are you just flattered and that's it? I need to know."

He had gone pale and was staring at her while swallowing hard.

"Answer me," she said in a tone more demanding than pleading.

"It's not that I'm just flattered, but I just don't know…"

"… what to do about this," she interrupted, "I've heard that old record before Grissom."

He sighed and slowly chewed his bottom lip as if deciding on the best course of action right now.

"Since _you_ don't know what to do about this," Sara said, "I'm going to tell you how we're going to play this game. I ask you questions and you answer. I do _not_ want bull shitty replies, or Shakespeare quotes, I want straight forward answers."

His eyes slightly widened when contemplating her rules.

"I know that's hard for you, but I need this right now," she softly added.

He slowly nodded in consent and leaned back into his chair.

"Thank you. Now, why did you invite me to come to Vegas to investigate Warrick's whereabouts in the Holly Gribbs case, and more importantly, why did you ask me to stay?"

He pondered for a moment, and then answered, "you're a great CSI." He seemed quite content with his own answer, which was, in his opinion, pretty much straight forward, but it didn't seem to please Sara.

"You only asked me for _that_ reason?" she asked.

"Yes…"

"Fair enough, now… why did you tell me you have been interested in beauty 'since you met me' when we were sitting at the ice rink?"

Grissom looked up at her. "You remember that?"

"Distinctively. Now answer the question."

"Because you asked me a question, and I answered in all honesty," he shrugged.

"Then what was it about me?"

He fell silent, not wanting to let her get that close, not wanting to share his innermost feelings. Not with her.

Her piercing eyes caused him to succumb.

"I had seen many a woman before you, that would be considered as beautiful by the majority of the population, slim, toned, large eyes, sparkling blue eyes. Then I met _you_, and the first time I laid eyes on you I knew that beauty -to me- isn't a perfect size or large breasts."

He stared dreamily in front of him. "It was your wit, your knowledge, your hunger for learning that gave you that ultimate something special. It was the fact that you weren't perfect. People would maybe consider you too tall or too thin, or they wouldn't like your teeth. To me, all of that made you beautiful."

Sara, who had been pacing back and forth in front of his desk now stood stock still and looked at him in astonishment.

It took her a while to find her voice, cocking her head first to one side, then to the other as if trying to see more of him by changing perspective.

"Were you attracted to me?"

Grissom rubbed his eyes and sighed, "yes."

"And when I came to Vegas?"

"I thought I could keep things professional, but…"

Sara grabbed the back of the chair she had been previously occupying and clamped down on it hard, draining the blood from her knuckles as she did so.

"Why did you say no?"

Grissom looked at her with a frown.

" When I asked you out," she added.

"I had just decided to go into surgery."

"You had _surgery_?" Sara nearly shouted, "for what?"

"Otosclerosis, I was going deaf."

"Right, and you didn't bother to tell me, or anything?"

Grissom just closed his eyes.

"I'm tired, Grissom, I can't take this anymore."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them for several minutes in which they exchanged glances and glares and nothing more. Eventually, Sara sat back down.

"Where do we go from here?" he suddenly asked.

"That depends. Do you have feelings for me?"

He slightly blushed as he opened his mouth to answer her and nothing came out.

"You don't have to answer that, I already know. I wasn't worth to risk everything you've worked for all your life, weren't those your exact words?"

The color drained from his face and he stared at her in horrified shock.

"I would've expected better from you, Grissom. I would've expected you -of all people- to know that the fact that two people look alike doesn't mean they're the same. I am _not_ Debbie Marlin."

Grissom, obviously still in shock about Sara hearing everything he had said to their suspect in the Marlin case, who was -in a way- so much like himself it was frightening, whispered, "I knew you'd hurt me in the end."

"Right, so to protect _yourself_ from being hurt, you decided to hurt _me_ in stead. What in your mind was it that made that okay to you?"

Grissom shrugged slightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but…"

"But?"

"I knew that eventually you'd want to date someone younger than me."

Sara stuck out her chin. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

"I'm old, for one. I can't give you children."

That seemed to strike a chord with Sara and she leaped up from her chair.

"_Children_? That's what this is about, that you can't give me _children_?" she shouted, "did you ever stop to think that maybe someone doesn't _want_ children, because they don't _like_ them or they find themselves genetically _inept_?"

Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but Sara raised her hand to shut him up. "Did you _ever_ think," she roared, "that maybe someone could've had a _hysterectomy_ at age fourteen after being so badly injured during a violent _rape_ in her foster home that she couldn't have children even if her life _depended_ on it!"

Tears were now spilling down her cheeks and Grissom looked up at her in shock, then down to her lower abdomen, then up at her again.

"No… I didn't," he whispered.

Sara was now furiously rubbing her eyes and cheeks to get rid of the salty drops that were still pooling. "You should've thought about that, Grissom. _You_, who always tell us that we shouldn't assume, should have thought about _that_."

Grissom stood up from his desk, wanting to wrap his arms around her in that moment, to apologize, to comfort, but she wouldn't let him.

She pulled an envelope out of her back pocket and threw it on his desk, then crossed her arms.

"What's this?" Grissom said while looking at the letter.

"It's my letter of resignation. I can't work side by side with you any longer, Grissom. I can't take the tension and the pain. It's too much and I can't handle it anymore. I've waited for six long years to have a decent conversation about you, about me, about us, and look where it brought me."

She walked backwards to the door, unlocked it and laid her hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Grissom, who was now holding her letter in both his hands looked up at her through misty eyes and said in an equally low tone, "I thought you loved this job."

"Not as much as I loved you."

With that she opened the door and left his office, leaving him standing behind his desk with a tear stained letter and a blurry vision.


	2. A Relief for Answers

**A/N:** Since I myself felt that the story couldn't end on such a sad note, I decided to post a second chapter. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, you have no idea how much that means to me. And thanks to those of you who need to be thanked, you know who you are.

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They threw her a farewell party in a small café down town. Correction, they threw her a farewell party that she didn't want, nor had given permission for, in a small café down town. 

She hadn't gone back to work after handing in her resignation, she had enough free time to take up at least five times the free days she needed, to cover her two weeks notice.

Nick had shown up at her door, told her to get dressed -which, to be honest, wasn't something she now did frequently-, and after letting her take a quick shower and dress in a pair of faded jeans, and a black tank top, he had whisked her off to his car, and had driven them to this place called 'A Little Irish Pub', which it indeed was.

Guinness and Murphy's richly flowed, not for her, but for them and somewhere in the midst of drinking gallons of tonic and unwrapping presents, she actually started to have fun.

She and the guys were seated at a big round table, and even Catherine had decided to tag along and join the fun. There was only one person missing in action, but she could have smelled that coming from miles away.

She had no plan yet on what to do next. Las Vegas had never felt like a home to her, but now that she was sitting here with her friends, she wasn't entirely too sure she was ready to leave them all behind and start a new life. Again.

Barely had there ever been contact between her and those she left behind in San Francisco. Her 'very best friend in the whole wide world forever and ever' Jane, being the only exception.

They had known each other since foster care, they had gone to high school together -Sara helping Jane out with physics and science, Jane helping Sara pass French and crafts- and after her four years in Boston, Sara had found Jane to be standing right there at the airport, welcoming her home to California with open arms.

Warrick suddenly wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder lightly before asking, "hey girl, are you having a good time?"

She looked around the table at Greg and Nick bantering and Catherine leaning casually back in her chair while slowly sipping on a glass of Irish red beer.

"I think I am, thanks."

"Okay! Time for more presents!" Greg yelled while pulling out a big box wrapped in something that could only be described as the clown-costume from hell and putting it on the table.

"Even more presents?" she asked while looking down at the pile of things already in front of her, an organiser, a pen, a book, and a small silver bracelet that said 'star of the Las Vegas Crime Lab'. The latter had made her cry.

She had gotten all the gifts anonymously, out of a large basket in which all the members of her team -and Doc Robbins and David- had put their presents.

The clown-esque box had made its way to the center of the table and Greg prompted her to stand up and 'dive in'.

Before she got a chance to rise from her seat however, Catherine quickly stood up and announced that she wanted to make a toast.

"Alright, here it goes," she said, "Sara, we're here to say goodbye to you as a member of our team. You chose to keep the reasons of your resignation to yourself, which didn't surprise any of us because you always have been a pretty private person. We just hope that you're happy with your decision and that you won't regret it.

"You and I both know we haven't been the best of friends over the last couple of years, but I am going to miss you as a colleague, as a person, and most of all as a female in this men's world of crime fighting. So, here's to you, Sara, I hope you will find a wonderful new job and that you will have great colleagues like the ones at CSI."

"To Sara!" was the general reply.

Sara smiled and stood up. "Okay, I guess I have to say something back now, right? You guys know I hate giving speeches…"

Her colleagues however were relentless. They sat back in amusement and smirked up at her.

She shot them all an angry glare before continuing. "I've loved working with all of you guys this past time, even though we weren't really off to a good start. I've never worked in an environment in which there was such a broad variety of people, yet still so much respect for each other's opinions.

"Greg, I loved being able to teach in stead of being the one to be taught for once and I truly hope you learned a lot of good stuff. I know you're going to be a great CSI if you keep being focused on the job. But don't let the dark sides of life quell that little spark in you okay?"

Greg beamed at her, and winked.

Sara continued to address all of her colleagues one by one, describing their special bond and wishing them all well in a personal way. As she looked down at all those faces, all those people that had made up the best surrogate family she had had in years, she felt a sudden urge to stay. Stay in Vegas, stay at the lab, stay with her friends and the comfort of the known as opposed to the anxiety of dipping herself once more into the unknown.

She wasn't a person to cry often, so she kept herself in check although tears did burn behind her eyes.

After the formalities of speeches she got to open the big box to reveal even more presents.

In that box lay a lab coat, coveralls, her CSI jacket, and her kit, containing amongst other things evidence bags, print powder and her maglite. She smiled at the stuff that had surrounded her all the time she had worked at the lab.

"I thought we weren't supposed to take our jackets when we left the lab?" she said. The deep crimson color on Greg's cheeks told her he was responsible for the illegal theft. "Thanks, guys."

"There's cards in there too. Everyone on the shift and some from the lab and PD put in a card."

"Everyone?" Sara asked, raising a brow.

Catherine winked at her, "everyone."

A sense of warmth spread through Sara's body, because even if she had fought with Grissom, stormed out of his office, and hadn't seen him since, he still, at the end of the day, mattered to her.

One by one she picked the cards out of the box and read them out loud. Nick's was just plain sweet, telling her that he had many sisters back home, but here in Vegas she was a very good surrogate. He made her promise to keep in touch and gave her a big hug to accompany the words on his card.

She picked up Greg's, which was wacky, as was to be expected and started to read, "don't read this out loud… oh!" Her eyes skimmed the words he wrote and she laughed. "Thanks Greg, but I think I'll sit this one out."

Greg gave her a disappointed look, then grinned at her. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"And I won't."

The next card had a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge on the front and immediately she knew it was from Grissom. They had stood on the bridge together in the past, when he came to San Francisco to help out her department on a case, and they had talked about what she hoped to achieve professionally.

She opened the card and prepared to read out loud, but the writing was so sloppy that she couldn't make anything out. Even though she had read many a report written by Grissom, this card was totally unreadable, even to her trained eyes. She could vaguely make out her own name, and a 'g' at the bottom, but that was pretty much it.

"Come on, read!" Catherine said.

"I would, but Grissom seriously needs writing lessons."

"Here let me see that."

Sara handed Catherine the card, but even Cath couldn't decipher it. Eventually they tossed the card aside, much to Sara's dismay, and after reading another two cards, the box was empty.

"Another round!" Nick cheerily announced before taking a big gulp of his fifth or sixth pint of Guinness.

Sara knew the evening was almost over, so she just sat back and smiled.

Warrick, who had stayed sober because he had to work later on that night pointed at Greg, who was running back and forth between the bathroom and the tap. Sara smiled. "I had a really great time tonight."

"Good," Warrick said.

She folded Grissom's card open once more and stared at it.

"I still, for the love of God, can't figure out what this says, though."

"It says, 'Sara, I'm so sorry I judged you. I love you. I know I've been a jerk, but please don't leave me.'"

She turned around to find Grissom standing a few feet behind her.

"I would've included 'please marry me' but I figured that I'd better ask that later, in a more private setting."


	3. A Question for Answers

**A/N:** Due to the fact that I'm going away for a few days and I have this chapter finished anyway, I'll post this one. I have to give out one warning though; it's completely and utterly unbeta'd! I usually get at least one person to read it through, but right now we're on a deadline here! So please, don't comment on the errors that I know are in there, all this baby has seen is the spell-check from my lovely Microsoft Word. Hugs to all of you, Cleo

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She had no clue what she was doing, sitting in a small restaurant at a table for two. She hadn't allowed him to pick her up, she didn't want him to assume she was his, just yet. His admission had certainly caught her off-guard and when she had gone home later that night she hadn't been sure whether to be happy, angry or just extremely sad. 

They had lost six years between them, and her leaving had been the only thing to get him to finally admit his feelings to her face, and those of the rest of the team.

She knew it had been an effort to him, being the private person that he was, and that his declaration of love, in public, was in fact a huge deal. But she couldn't help wondering how sincere it all was, after all, why would he have let her suffer for all this time if he really did love her? Was this just another sorry attempt to keep her within his reach, to control her, like he had done on so many occasions in the past.

Never in their time had he given her up. Every time they had had a fight and things had been on the brink of being enough for her, he had done something to make her stay and this time was no different.

Or maybe it was, because never before had he told her he loved her, so blatantly, hopelessly and passionately.

She turned to look at the door when she heard the familiar tingle of the small bells for at least the sixth time since she was here. Scared as she was for being stood up, she felt a flood of relief to see that it was, in fact, Grissom walking in, looking more handsome than she remembered ever seeing him.

It wasn't the way he was dressed, which was pretty much something he could wear to work. It was the calm satisfied way in which he carried himself, a man who had finally made peace with the world, and above all, himself.

He was led to her table by the small blonde woman who had served her a white wine spritzer not too long ago.

"Hey," she said, not being able to resist the urge to stand up to greet him.

He smiled at her and leaned in for a soft kiss on her cheek before they both sat down, leaving her cheek burning and his eyes sparkling.

The relaxed way in which he regarded her, handled her was confusing. She had never seen him behave like this and it was like a completely new person had taken his place. At this point, she wasn't even sure she liked it.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Good, been busy job hunting. How is the lab?"

He looked down at his hands, then met her eyes. "Quiet."

She knew it would be far too easy if she'd let him off the hook like this. After six years of running around in circles the least she was allowed to expect was some form of apology, or an explanation at least.

The waitress came and handed them the menu, giving her time to contemplate, to breathe.

Sitting in a small restaurant with Grissom, a comforting silence, like the world and life had never been any different, had been a dream of her since the day she fell in love with him. Here they were now, but things didn't feel as relaxed as they had felt in her dreams and fantasies. There was an unspoken barrier between them, waiting to be knocked down on their path to eternal happiness.

But after several years of knocking down stuff, playing the game, she was now too tired to break any more barriers. She didn't feel like fighting anymore, for fighting is what she had done for many years.

If this barrier was going to be broken down it would have to be done by him, or at least be a joint effort in which he carried the tools and took out the first few bricks to weaken the wall between them.

She didn't expect him to _see_ the wall, let alone break it, so maybe this, after all they'd been through, was the end, in stead of a new beginning.

"I know I haven't made things easy for you, for us, in the past," he said after they had both ordered.

"That's the understatement of the year."

He closed his eyes for a second and then looked back up at her. "You have every right to be angry, and I can't begin to describe how sorry I am for being… me."

Sara bit her bottom lip to keep from replying straight away, giving him a chance to finish.

"I am not sure why I've kept you at arms length for so long," he continued, "you have always meant so much to me, but I've never had that before and the unknown scared the hell out of me. I wasn't ready to leap, even if it was with you. I was afraid of the fall, afraid to get hurt and hurt you."

She just looked at him, a mingle of pain, understanding, regret, sorrow, and love evident in her eyes.

Grissom sighed. "I guess that's pretty much all I can say about it, I can't explain or rectify my behavior."

"What made you change your mind?"

It had ultimately been the question he was waiting for, as he was not ready to land upon the truth himself. He was glad she asked that question because he wanted to tell her, he wanted nothing more in the world than to tell her and by asking him that question she had put the door ajar and ready for him to come in.

"You walked out of my office, and I knew I'd never see you again if I didn't do something. I couldn't bear the thought of never hearing you laugh again, never putting my hand to the small of your back again or hold hands with you when you needed comfort. The thought of never having your scent filling my nostrils again would be way too much for any man to handle."

Sara drew a shaky breath as he continued.

"And in that moment, and the night that followed, I realized that nothing in this whole world scared me more than the thought of losing you forever. Never have I admitted it to myself, let alone anyone else, but I love you, I really do, and I think I have since that night on the Golden Gate Bridge."

Sara smiled shyly.

"I don't know why it took so long to realize it."

"You've always been slow on the uptake."

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I know this, talk, doesn't make everything okay, and I know we have a very long way to go, but I hope you can forgive me."

"I wouldn't be here if I believed that I couldn't."

They ate their dinner in silent peace, stealing occasional glances at each other and talking about anything and everything.

When the night wound to an end, and Grissom wrapped her coat around her before guiding her out of the restaurant, there seemed to be something bothering him.

"What is it?" Sara asked, trying to get him to look her in the eye.

He shook his head slightly and stared into space while continuing their walk to the parking lot.

"We weren't going to do this anymore, remember?" she said angrily.

Grissom eventually looked at her and she could see the moisture building in his eyes, stopping her dead in her track. She instinctively grabbed his hand, like he had grabbed hers so very often over the pas years.

"What is it?" she repeated at a whisper.

He pulled her into his arms, his hot breath warming the back of her neck when he buried his nose in her hair. She could feel him sob, breaking apart on her shoulder, grabbing her even tighter. She wrapped her arms around his back, feeling his muscles contract under her grip.

"Gris, tell me what's wrong."

For a while all she could hear were his heaving breaths, then suddenly she heard his voice, distant and small. "I am so, so sorry," he cried, "I'm so sorry that I assumed that you would want children and I'm so sorry for what happened to you."

Her own tears now spilt richly over her cheeks. "You couldn't know."

He took his face out of the crook of her neck and said, "I love you, I loved you and I didn't even notice there was something going on. I should've known there was some deeper secret, a heavier burden you were carrying."

She closed her eyes and pressed her wet cheek against his. His hands roamed her back before coming up and gently stroking her hair.

"It's okay," she whispered, "it's okay."

He cupped her face with his right hand, softly wiping her tears away with his thumb, and she copied his motion.

"I love you," were the last words she heard before his lips landed on hers.


End file.
